From there he could see

Out into the parking lot and the surrounding hills.

A ten-acre field of cockleburs spotted with clumps of sunflowers and wild gum.

Over the scrubby trees at the edge of the cemetery and across the playground of the shabby housing projects

A big white sail which he knew was on top of the place that was home.

The profiles of two boats waiting outside the harbor for a chance to make the mad dash.

Out to the choppy winter sea and the whistle of the wind.

––Sarah Duncan

[artist's website]